


When Needs Must

by summerartist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerartist/pseuds/summerartist
Summary: One would assume that Lieutenant Reed did not have a creative bone in his body. By believing that one would be forgetting that Lieutenant Reed always has the element of surprise on his side.(In which Malcolm is adept at drawing when needs must)





	When Needs Must

If one asked Malcolm if he could draw he would most likely reply with, “a little.” If pressed for details he would reluctantly admit, “I can draw schematics if that’s what you mean.”

 

He had once bragged to Trip about how the UK focused on vital core curriculum, not on examination of topics like poetry and ethics in fiction or whatever it was Americans taught in their schools. His education had only very briefly touched on copying diagrams and maps but for the most part he was responsible for learning to hold a writing implement and using it to copy the world around him.

 

He had dabbled in it and it had served him well in covert ops. It was much easier to identify a man if you could accurately recall the distance between his features and the exact color of his eyes and hair. (He was indeed fortunate that the colorblindness from his mother’s side had skipped a generation.)

 

It was in fact Doctor Phlox that had first found out about his deftness with his hands and how steady they were in gripping a pencil. They had been discussing surgery of all things, and had been using a screen to draw on to show how the procedure would advance. Doctor Phlox’s short scribbly lines detailed how an alien projectile would be removed from crewman Miller’s diaphragm and how it could be eased out without causing damage to her internal organs.

 

If one got right down to it Malcolm could be a bit of an older brother bear with younger crewmen and wished to be present while their injuries were being treated. Doctor Phlox was accustomed to this and had dealt with his overbearing concern before. In his experience it was simply better to allow the tactical officer to contribute to the proceedings rather than bar him from sickbay as he had attempted to do in the past. Mr. Reed would instead retreat into his quarters without food and rest and let his guilty thoughts cloud his thinking.

 

This course of action was better for all parties concerned. Mr. Reed would rest after he saw his crewman safe and sound, the crewman would recover better while feeling watched over, and Doctor Phlox would soon be rid of his somewhat nosy tactical officer. His routine would quickly return to caring for his creatures and dealing with little tasks in sickbay.

 

Phlox had lightly dotted the outline of the torso and the entrance of the projectile, hoping that the vague scrawl would put Reed’s mind at ease while explaining to him, rather vividly, the process of cutting into the tissue and the position of the organs he was going to be avoiding. He became somewhat distracted during his lecture when he found the digital pen snatched out of his hand.

 

Doctor Phlox stuttered but soon his eyes focused on the strange visage of Mr. Reed swiftly and accurately drawing on the screen. Phlox’s slapdash attempt to provide a visual was being drawn over by none other than their nervous tactical officer. Reed drew out the diagram in detail as if he had copied from a medical text before, or was familiar with the procedure. He asked the doctor to confirm that this was how the surgery would be completed. Phlox nodded and explained a point or two but it was clear that Mr. Reed had been listening with interest.

 

Phlox complimented his skills and attention to detail. Mr. Reed’s cheeks flushed as his voice lowered in a rumble.

 

“Thank you, doctor.”

 

Doctor Phlox smiled and reassured him that Crewman Miller would be fine after a couple of days of recuperating. His surgical techniques were still ahead of their time and he was sure to have her wound healing rapidly. Malcolm thanked him and let the Doctor get back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

Captain Jonathan Archer entered his quarters slowly, limbs still tired from a long day. It had actually been a very pleasant day full of interactions with his crewmen and close friends. Today had been his Birthday and his crew, especially his senior officers, had not let him forget it. Trip had held a special movie night in his honor and Hoshi and Travis had taken him off the ship to visit the locals at one of the starbases close to home. T’Pol and Malcolm had watched his favorite movie with him while Travis provided the bottle of scotch he had picked up from somewhere that he was keeping under wraps. Archer was worn out from all of that talking and the booze, truth be told. He started unzipping his uniform while loosening his collar.

 

When he entered his quarters he greeted by his beagle, Porthos, who had come racing up to him. Porthos’s tail was wagging madly with excitement and Archer’s heart warmed at the sight of it.

 

“Hey, boy.”

 

He was just pondering the price of giving Porthos some celebratory Birthday cheese when he noticed something in his quarters that was not meant to be there and had not been there previously. He walked over to his desk and stood there with his suit sleeves dangling awkwardly off of him. His mouth opened in shock as he approached and studied it more closely.

 

The paper was a worn parchment color and it sat rolled out neatly on his side table that he used for writing reports. The drawing must have taken hours. The almost scientific accuracy and attention to detail was stunning and drawn in very recognizable wobbly lines and dots. What he had done to deserve this...he did not know, though there was a brief flicker in his memory of the circumstances involving a cold outer hull and shouting down a self-sacrificing tactical officer. After the incident their working relationship had changed somewhat and Malcolm had been more open with him as his officer. Surely Malcolm had not only done this out of a sense of obligation and gratitude; It must have been a gift given out of sincerity.

 

It was not just a map of any star system, but the discoveries they had made so far while traveling on Enterprise. He admired the star chart for a long time and resolved to hang it somewhere where it could be seen easily, in his ready room over his desk perhaps. He slowly absorbed the knowledge of the skills Malcolm must have used in creating it. He had gone through great lengths in making his handwriting unrecognizable but given that he was the only one with the captain’s door override code and that the uneven lines were a trademark of his, it was safe to assume that this was indeed a Reed original.

 

Archer’s fingers softly ghosted over the network of marks before he withdrew his hand lest he smear it. Such a fragile thing...this trust was…

 

He hoped he could manage to keep it intact.

 

* * *

 

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> These snippets were born from personal experiences like my surgeon covering the majority of my examination bed in drawings while explaining a procedure. (It was kind of adorable and he swiftly gained my respect.) The second one was inspired by my family’s skills in mapping and such, and my intense concentration for delicate fiddly things. Hope you enjoyed :-)


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